The Truest Love Of All
by JuneLuxray
Summary: Mr. Lancer wishes for someone to talk to...Desiree is more than happy to help, but will it be anything like he expected? For new pairing Pii made. WARNING! SERIOUS CRACK PAIRING AHEAD!
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own Danny Phantom. Butch Hartman does. Nor do I own Pearls Before Swine. Stephan Pastis does. I warn you, this is the strangest thing I have EVER written. And that's saying something. Read with caution. This is for my friend, Pii's, new pairing.  
**

Mr. Lancer sighed in relief as he finished grading papers for the night. He placed them inside his briefcase, closing it with a 'clik'.

The outside world was cold, nighttime darkness. No birds sang; for they had retired to their nests for the night. All that was there was the sweet music of the cricket with the hoots of a lone owl. Lancer rubbed his forehead tiredly. He had no one to speak to- no wife, no children. He lived alone. An existence he didn't mind, and kind of enjoyed, but some nights he wished he had someone to talk to. Someone to tell of his misadventures at the high school. Someone to give him sympathy for the disrespect he faces. To be disgusted with some of the antics he had to put up with from students, or certain odd-ball situations.

He glanced down at his briefcase. His favorite object. He couldn't place why, but it was. He even chained it to himself during the C.A.T.. He swore, it was the only thing that understood him at all, despite being an inanimate object used for the purpose of holding papers and whatever else Lancer put in there- maybe a cup of noodles to heat up for lunch, a pencil or pen here and there. His_ Pearls Before Swine_ collection book. Sometimes, like in _Pearls_, he felt he was Zebra, while all the students were the crocs.

He sighed and spoke aloud. "I really wish I had someone to talk to that likes me."

Little did he know of who was outside...

Now, ghosts were a common thing in Amity Park. They had been for a while now. Their defender was Danny Phantom, a ghost who was really Danny Fenton, son of two ghost hunters. He's half-ghost, but...Oh, excuse me. Off topic.

Anyhow, a ghost Danny had to fight on occasion was Desiree, a genie-like ghost who had died of a broken heart and old age. She granted people's wishes, often to see it blow up in their faces, ending with her flying away laughing like a maniac.

Where was she now?

Right above Lancer's house. Flying by innocently, she stopped at hearing him. She smirked and shouted, "So you have wished it, and so it shall be!" This scared the living daylights out of Lancer, who hadn't been ready, and fell off the couch.

"GHOST!" He shouted, covering his head. He didn't see his briefcase start to sparkle a little...

After not hearing anything for a few minutes, he cautiously sat up, looking around carefully.

"Are you alright?" He heard a random, sweet voice ask. He fell back again, and look around after getting up, standing.

"Who-who's there?" He asked shakily.

His briefcase tilted it's zipper in a way that made it appear to frown. "Right here, silly!" It said. Lancer turned to where he heard it, but saw nothing.

"Who? I don't see you..." He muttered, confused. The briefcase would roll it's eyeballs right now if it had any.

"Down here, genius!" It said, annoyed. Lancer looked down-

And saw his briefcase sparkling. He gasped. Briefcase smiled. "Yep, it's me! Who'd else you'd expect?"

Mr. Lancer blinked once. Blinked twice. Blinked thrice. He then rubbed his eyes, and looked at the briefcase again. Still sparkling. Still smiling. He rubbed his head.

"Alright, I am hallucinating. I will go to sleep, and you will not be a talking briefcase." He said nonchalantly, lying down on the couch and closing his eyes. Briefcase sighed.

"Have fun with that. You'll be in for a shock later."

"Hush. You aren't really talking." Mr. Lancer muttered.

Briefy only smirked and waited...


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own Danny Phantom. Butch Hartman does.  
**

The morning sun broke through the windows of Mr. Lancer's home. The coo of some mourning doves outside were relaxing. Mr. Lancer thanked the fact that it was a Saturday as he sat up, and stretched his back with a yawn.

Briefy was waiting. "Awake yet?" It inquired. Mr. Lancer jumped at that, and turned to the briefcase with a stare.

"What the...? I must still be dreaming." Mr. Lancer said, staring blankly at the thing. Briefy snickered.

"Then pinch yourself. You'll see." Briefy said. Mr. Lancer rolled his eyes and lifted two fingers up to his arm and pinched the flab, and froze at feeling it. He then slowly looked at the briefcase with a shocked expression.

"What-how- This isn't possible. This _defies_ the laws of physics." He said. Briefcase groaned.

"Oh, for goodness' _sake_! What do I have to do to prove it to you?" It snapped. Mr. Lancer stopped, and thought for a minute, before he grinned and looked down at the thing.

"Alright, why did I have you chained to me during the C.A.T.?" He asked cockily. Briefy sighed.

"Because, you wanted to make sure you didn't lose the answers. Quite honestly, that was the most annoying week of my life." Briefy said confidently. Mr. Lancer nodded as if he won, then did a double take. He gasped and stared at Briefy.

"Y-you're real. B-but...H-how? Are you possessed by a ghost or something?" He asked. Briefy would shrug if it could.

"No, I am not possessed. I'm not entirely sure myself. All I remember is this odd voice shouting 'so you have wished it, and so it shall be'...And here I am. Speaking. How odd." It said. Mr. Lancer shook his head, and opened Briefy for a moment.

"Ay, vut var vu doin?" It tried to speak, but it was having trouble while Lancer was looking through.

"Getting my laptop out." He responded blankly.

"Vut vy?"

"To look up that ghost you spoke of."

"Vo."

"Mhm." He said, closing Briefy again. Briefy sighed and waited while he opened the computer, and began to type stuff in. He clicked around a little bit, before stopping at something. He read over the internet page, before saying 'ohhhh'.

"What?" Briefy asked. Mr. Lancer sighed and closed his laptop.

"The ghost is a genie-like ghost who goes around granting wishes. She probably heard my wish last night, to have someone listen and talk to me. I suppose this result is a bit...Unorthodox." He said, giving a look at Briefy. Briefy seemed to be examining him, and made a 'purrr' sound. Mr. Lancer raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"You're awfully handsome..." Briefy said. Mr. Lancer blinked. Then he smiled a little.

"Oh, you flatter me. You're pretty good looking, yourself." Mr. Lancer said a little shyly. Briefy would blush if it could.

"Aww. You're too kind. I'm a pretty average briefcase." Briefy said. Mr. Lancer shook his head.

"No, you're special. Something about you I like. You're about the only thing keeping me sane during the school day." Mr. Lancer muttered. Briefy smiled.

"I know what you mean. I've seen some of the things those kids do- it's absurd." Briefy said with a scoff. Mr. Lancer smiled.

"Someone who agrees with me. I wish they'd know how hard it is, too, to grade all those papers!"

"They don't give you respect for that?"

"Nope. They even say they should be paid to go to school."

"How stupid!"

The conversation between Mr. Lancer and the Briefcase went on all day, into the night. They had so much to talk about- so much in common.

Finally, as Mr. Lancer was about to go to bed, Briefy sighed a little. Mr. Lancer frowned.

"What's wrong?" He asked. Briefy sighed again.

"I'm gonna miss you overnight." Briefy said. Mr. Lancer felt a grin tug on his lips.

"I'll miss you too. But overnight isn't long. You'll see me again before you know it." He said. Briefy seemed to want to ask something, but couldn't. Mr. Lancer could tell.

"Is there anything you wish to ask or tell me?" Lancer asked. Briefy sighed.

"Well...I...Uh...Wanted to know...Can I sleep in the bed with you tonight?" Briefy asked. Lancer thought about it for a moment, before shrugging.

"Oh, alright. Just don't talk when I'm sleeping."

"YAY!" Briefy cheered. Mr. Lancer smiled, picked it up, and went to bed.


End file.
